Tricks behind Words
by Time Lordess
Summary: CHAPTER SIX is up! - Sequel to Hope in the Impossible. Where Malik returns from the dead to kill the Dracula's but there is one reason that he doesn't want to. Ingrid. Malik and Ingrid meet and all kinds of stuff happens. Malik/Ingrid
1. Prologue - Vanquished in flames

**Author's Notes:**

**Yeah.. uh hi guys! So basically the summary will explain all, I made a sequel to Hope in the Impossible, don't ask me why I just did. I am being spontaneouse. or however you spell that. I can't be bothered to check. Also I HATED that on my thingy it said I only done one story so... you know. **

**If you haven't read Hope in the Impossible, it will refer back to that at some point in time, so check it out. Also watch young Dracula because there will be stuff referring to that. Now how about we set up a little club that ships Mingrid but absolutely wants to kill Piers, I get to kill him first though... Actually make that 300 representing Malik's age and stuff... **

**Anyway I'll just be off, fantasising about killing the insolent breather scum called Piers. Byeee!**

**I don't own YD or any of it's character's they are all the BBC creation. (I'm really jealous about it though)**

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Prologue

Vanquished in flames

His name was lost in the fire. The Flames burned his very existence. His whole spirit lost in the warmth. The darkness caved in around him.

He was alive. He was dead. He was the curse that never came.

His name was carved in the pits of hell. His was the name no-one wanted to hear.

His name was Malik Hellfire Vaccineria. And he had escaped death

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**Okay its short, but it is just a prologue! Anyway I don't know when updates will come, but they will come! Hopefully you'll stick around ... (if I put Pond there, it would've been a Doctor Who Reference.) **

**Okay the next chapter might be confusing but I'll explain all, just hope you can keep up with an insane mad mind like this, because I have no clue what goes on in my head. I think Ingrid will come in from the 4th chapter... (Me no know) **

**Now excuse me while I light a torch and get a pitchfork and storm Richard Southgate (Malik) and Clare Thomas's (Ingrid) house and tell them to go out and reboot Young Dracula**


	2. Chapter 1 - Kill the Dracula's

**Author's Note**

**This Chapter may or may not be confusing... just read it out.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own YD or any of its Characters.**

* * *

He was the killer of the Dracula Clan.

This is the story of a terrible curse.

And this is how it starts.

* * *

"Get to Ingrid, she is the weakest link." Shango had said to him hours before his death. He remembered it so clearly. His last hours of being a free vampire. Shango Ramanga had been right. She was. And he was coming for her.

But she was also the most cleverest one, she knew when someone was traitor. Even if it didn't seem like it at the time. Even if her heart and soul told her to trust them. Maybe it was because she had instincts only the most evil had. Maybe because it was her, Ingrid Dracula's way of life, trust no one, especially feeble minded men. Ingrid Dracula was a worthy opponent to Malik Vaccineria. And he loathed her for it.

Malik looked at the misty nights sky, the moon bleeding through the smoke with dark, angry, cold muddy brown eyes. He kept on staring facing down his enemy with eyes like steel. Dawn was close. That was bad, very bad. His body shivered from the warm, he was still adjusting from the flames that burned his soul. All _her _fault. Why did _she _have to burn him? His back was pressed stiffly to a burnt black cave wall as he watched the lava trickle or sliver down the sides of the mountain down to the glorious mass destruction of a civilization below. It was warm and the lava was amber, scarlet, maroon and blazing yellow. Absolutely magnificent.

Malik shuffled his feet together and pressed his arms closer to his body for fear of the lava scorching his being. He was never going to be in a more worse life or death situation then this, well maybe the one where he actually died.

Dying was horrible. He thought it was going to be living in a perfect hell or if you were bad in a miserable happy place. But it wasn't. It was just dark. Just dark. Just you by yourself surrounded by a pitch blackness you couldn't escape. And there was something behind you, following you. Always.

He was never going back there, he wasn't going to die twice. Ever.

It was quite a formidable sight, the devastation below him. Absolutely beautiful. A whole world beneath about to tear itself apart. Just for the sake of survival. That was Malik's type of world. A one of supreme chaos. Why was it tearing itself apart? because people were killing each other left and right just to be the last passenger on a boat out of the burning city, brothers and sisters were turning on each other as they sold themselves as slaves to idiots, just so they could afford to leave the city on a crammed bus. Vampires stood and laughed at the imbeciles only later realising that while they were entertaining themselves, the flames had reached them and they were to be dust. It was amazing. He never knew such chaos could be caused by a natural disaster.

He had been at the mouth of the Crimson Death Volcano when it began spurting its blood red venom of fire, he remembered just staring at it, in total awe before shock registered and he turned away from the volcano to flee the warm. The lava had already filled its container and was leaking out to race with Malik. Gaining such a speed behind him, he thought he was to die again. He had tried to run faster but his body somehow refused to run at its normal lightning bolt speed. He had found a shelter of sorts near the middle of the Volcano, the rock rising upwards so that it formed a mouth to a cave. He had scrabbled inside, just nearly missing the lava that was at his feet and sat down to recover his non-existent breath. He had gasped for air, with ragged breaths and a cold pale white hand limply soothing his scorching throat. The toxic fumes mingled with the air around him and the smell of burning vampire flesh was horrific.

He sat down tiredly, his hands using the black rock to steady him unto the ground without slipping so as to avoid the pointy edge of the rock below. Warily looking around him, Malik saw the lava slipping by him and the heat reflected in his eyes.

It was beautiful, amazing how such dangerous things could look so radiant.

Malik peeked a look to the top of the Volcano, careful not to let his body touch the flames, the volcano was still spewing out scarlet lava, it looked like a fountain of sorts. But one thing was clear, he wasn't leaving any time soon.  
The sky was being attacked by angry fumes of dark grey, puffing out air that would make a breathers throat feel painful.

His leather jacket wore scruffy hems that had torn off from the journey to the cave, his trousers were cut and torn in strangely neat and stylish ways but the stitches were bouncing out, his boots were bent and didn't look too good and Malik only hoped that they could survive the night. His hair was dark brown and dust filled up strands of hair that were clinging to them for dear life, Malik's eyes were pitch black, his iris all but gone and the brown covered by deadly black. He supposed the eyes made sense because the first thing he thought when he was alive was a purpose to kill the Dracula's.

Malik banged his head against the wall, so much till his head went numb and he placed a hand to rub it back to the un-dead. Everything was going all so terribly wrong.

He was meant to be flying over the Atlantic but he was stranded in a small vampiric Incan civilisation in Nazca.  
The first rays of sun were making their way towards him and Malik could only hope the smoke and the lava would go so that he could fly out of this luminous island.

Sure enough the smoke parted ways and the lava wasn't as rapid as it was. He briefly thought that he should find shelter somewhere and wait out the day but quickly dismissed it as a urgent voice filled his head.

"You are alive, be grateful. Kill the Dracula's. Kill the Dracula's. Kill the Dracula's." it was a unknown male voice and it spoke in a demanding whisper.

He didn't need to be told to kill the Dracula's.  
He wanted to kill the Dracula's.

* * *

Malik was listening to him, he wasn't being disobedient. The vampire knew there was a reason that he allowed Malik to come back from the dust. He only hoped that Malik stayed obedient.  
Malik was a unpredictable vampire with a fondness to turn traitor. He was clever.

There was only one vampire that could match up to Malik Hellfire Vaccineria and soon they would be dead.

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**Author's Note:**

**So who is the mysterious male voice? All will be revealed in time.**

**Okay so Malik is a living vampire curse, because of the whole speech he made in ep 10 and the person that brought him back from th dead, well we don't know who he is. Malik has to obey and be loyal to said mystery man and that's all I can say.**

**Hope you like!**


	3. Chapter Two - The Scream

**Author's Notes**

**Hi guys, umm will it slightly annoy you that this chapter was ready a week ago? I hope not. As promised a chapter is ready and posted, hope you enjoy. Feel free to punch me, I'm ready... *Receives lots of punches*** **Well I did deserve that, byee**

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Malik had just about left the fiery flames of Nazca Volcano Shantytown alive, the flames had taken a toll for the worse and had shifted towards his body and the sun was melting out of the smoke, threatening to singe his body. He had decided it was time to move out of the cave and face the smoky sky.  
His hair had burnt slightly but otherwise looked normal enough if slightly feral. But, he was a feral type of vampire.

As if the blazing warmth wasn't bad, he was in the biting cold of the Antarctic. This didn't effect Malik that much but still he whimpered from the cold. His arms had been hurt by a snow storm, while he was flying to Europe across the Arctic.  
He had regained his vampire speed but could only run 100m before he had to walk for one minute. It was frustrating. In fact his hate boiled the air around him but he supposed that was normal now for a thing like him. A living vampire curse. He still couldn't get his head around it, he had been Malik and now he was a creature living only because they had a hatred unique to any other vampire. The hatred powerful to resurrect them into a curse.

"My hatred will live on for eternity, I curse you with it." He had said in those days of being a free vampire. He had had no idea of the effect of his words. But he never regretted it. He was alive, he was angry and he was the Dracula's downfall.

"Malik." The voice spoke, whispering and cold.

Malik chose to ignore, he was tired and this was the fastest he could go.

"Malik." The voice repeated a bit louder. "Hurry Malik."

It was like Malik was bound to do what the voice commanded, when he didn't the voice would return. Powerful and full of rage. It would terrify Malik in a way only one other person could. He was sure, had he been alive, he wouldn't think the tone all that scary, but things were different now. He was a slave to an unknown master, and he it was duty to be afraid of the voice. He would be reminded of the thing he had become and that Malik should be grateful he was even walking the earth. And he was grateful, but he hated not being free. Having to carry out tasks that he wanted to do but didn't have the freedom to preform them as he wanted to. It was like he was with his mother.

Malik snarled in frustration at the voice. It became pestering and shouldn't the thing realise he was trying. Trying to get closer to the target but it was completely insane to think for one second that Malik could get there any faster. He tugged his wet leather jacket closer to him, it wouldn't have an effect but still. His boots were clinging to his aching feet and he only hoped that his arm would heal. Quickly.

Snow picked on his hair, smacked his face hardly. He never felt more alive in his life but he was surviving, there was only one thing keeping him alive, the utter moment of elation and victory Malik would feel as he stabbed a stake through all the Dracula's hearts. Vlad would be a pleasure to kill, one of the biggest trophies he could have, he was after all the indestructible, Chosen One. The Count would quench the feeling of suffering he had since he found out that he wasn't a Dracula. And Ingrid. Well, some things had to be done.

"Move, don't dwell on the future, boy nor dabble on the past. Live here, Live now. For the present is the only thing you have control in, now move!" The voice whispered, comforting but commanding. Malik didn't know what to make of this new mysterious figure but didn't dare question him, questioning the voice got him back to a place he never wanted to be, death. It was the voices mean of punishment. And it worked.

"Don't ask questions creature, or would you like a trip back to Death Valley?" The voice questioned, threatening him.

Malik snarled, fangs lowered and hissed sharply at the air. To show he wasn't okay being chained, no privacy, no control. Just a puppet to a fool he didn't even know about.

Malik trudged onwards through the thick snowstorm, his face bent down to cover his sore eyes. He had been walking for hours and it felt like eternity. His feet ached and his arm was paining his shoulder. He felt like collapsing and just living out the rest of forever on the snowy barren wasteland, however cold it was.

"Stop whining, coward!" The voice snapped in his evil whisper, "Pull yourself together, and complete your purpose before I have any second thoughts about keeping you alive."

Malik stood up, growling in frustration. What did he do to deserve this?  
Teamed up with Asan and Shango, such a big mistake. He could be free, living and plotting. If only he stayed with Ingrid. She wanted to kill the Dracula's so did Asan but Ingrid didn't have a psychotic father bent on power. Why didn't he stay with her? He didn't know but he had forgotten why he had even went to the Ramanga's in the first place?

Suddenly it surrounded him, the darkness. The kind of dark he never wanted to see again. He span around, instinct. He knew there was nothing here, well except it. He felt the thing slither up his shoulder, the thing that he had been running from in this dark. The monster. He reached to trap it on his shoulder but it instantly disappeared and was now on his head. It felt like a hand was in his neck, pointing his face upwards. It was unnerving. He hated being dead. Because then he had to face this.

"Now you listen to me Malik." The voice spat his name, it was coming from above, "If you didn't like the walking, why didn't you say so? I could easily have you back here... If that's what you prefer..."

The thing slithered down to his neck, grasping it, it felt like something was breathing next to his ear and suddenly the monster screamed and it was unearthly. It was too much for Malik to take, that screeching. He wanted to be gone, gone from the dark, the nothing, the screaming.

"STOP IT!" Malik begged and pleaded, the dark suddenly looked very scary and he wanted to raise his hands to cover his ears but he couldn't. "I'll do what you want but, just please...please get me out of here."

He could almost hear the voice laughing at his weakness. His willingness to give in because of where he was.

Suddenly he was back in the snow, his hands fisted and eyes ablaze. The darkness was more comfortable here, less intense. The snow was even welcome, it showed there was something here that wasn't the thing, the beast. He shivered at the memory. He would do it. He would kill them. All of them. Even her.

He didn't want to hear that again. Not that. No that scream.  
The Scream.

The man cackled in delight, Malik was never going to disobey him now, not after that. He had heard the scream himself but it didn't affect him. He could still hear the scream, even now. However it was a different scream to the one Malik heard, because that was it does, use your fears against you and make even your home, the dark, seem scary. Malik wasn't as twisted as he was, yet. He still felt pain and happiness, that's why the figure would take great pleasure in tearing him to pieces and moulding him to something of pure evil

Malik Vaccineria was a perfect weapon, with two weaknesses. One of he could control, the Death Valley. And another, that would soon be irrelevant. Ingrid Dracula was as good as doomed.  
There was nothing Malik could do, his soul and body was his. He was resurrected to do his bidding.

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**Okay bye guys, just need to say something. My internet is down right now and they said we'd get it back on Monday, but then they did say that it would be here by last Wednesday and it didn't so I don't really trust them. so me and my family have been living in a internet free world for most of the east holiday and its really annoying me and my sister. for us internet is like breathing. I suppose that tells you a lot about my social life...**

**Anyway hope you keep waiting for that next chapter. I don't know whether Ingrid is going to come in chapter five or...**


	4. Chapter Three - The Corsairs

**Author's Notes**

**HI! I HAVE MY INTENET BACK AND SO THE HOLIDAYS CAN BEGIN. (I am so anti-social, seriously. I need to get a life.. *sigh*) you should have seen me when I saw the internet sign. I ran down the stairs, jumped, shouted "HALLEUJAH!" and... then went and tumbled on the floor. *toothy grin* So welcome to the life of Time-Lordess, I AM CLUMSY!**

**So here's is an extra long chapter for you to read while I go take internet on a date (brain: Shut up, they think your strange. Mad) *nervous laugh* Okaaay, me gonna go now! **

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**Chapter Three**

**The Corsairs Tribe**

Malik was flung inside the room and lost his balance and slipped to the ground. The guards chuckled, watching him as he was trying to get up with no victory.

The door was grey and metal, and if his days of being shackled in this type of mental, it was argentillium metal, why he needed that, was impossible to know. However what Malik did know was that he was inside a prison cell and that sound was the doors, locking. He scrambled up to the door, slipping ungracefully in his haste to reach the door before the guard walked away. His hands slid against the dusty floor, giving him the impression that whatever barbaric place he had landed himself in was a place where no one questioned those of authority or that of a powerful class.

"Wait!" Malik shouted, hoping the guard was still nearby to hear him, he sounded so pathetic and useless that it sickened him but he needed to survive. He had plans of seeing the next night. "Just open the door, you don't need to help me, I can survive out there, just open this door."

The man who wore a tattoo same as the others sneered at him, his mouth bent on a crooked unpleasant grin, showing his decaying cream teeth. "Are you kidding me, the chief would have my life for this." He spoke in a voice that was seething but seemed like it was close to laughing, like what Malik had just said was the silliest thing in the world. Malik supposed it was, if he was in the guard's place he would have left by now.

Malik growled in frustration and snarled at him. The guard simply laughed at him and went up the stairs, leaving Malik in the company of the sun and of course, the voice.

He turned away from the door, leaning against it, banging his head on the wall to release the anger that always seemed to haunt him nowadays. The room was small but in the form of a simple square. Three grey cement walls and a fourth that didn't exist, it would let in the sun in precisely two hours and by that time, and Malik would be toast. The spiders that hung on the cobwebs around him seemed to mock him and the foolishness he had before even setting foot on the beach.

"So, was this part of the plan?" Malik began seething in anger and his voice turning louder because of the fear he was feeling. "To let this, this stupid tribe kill me before I get anywhere near killing the Dracula's clan?" To anyone else in the area, Malik would have looked deranged, talking to no-one in such a way. Perhaps he was deranged, someone had told him as much. But he was way past caring, he only cared about his survival.

The voice resounded around him, filling his ears in a loud whisper. Echoing around him, he was not going to get used to this very quickly. "Hush boy! We need something from here, wait for my signal." Before Malik could ask what the signal was, and what they needed that Malik could possibly die for, the voice interrupted, "You'll know the signal, won't be able to miss it." And then everything was quiet.

Malik slumped on the door, sitting in front of it and watching the bluish tint of the night sky, fade into a beautiful orange of dawn.

Somehow, Malik didn't want to put his hope into a crazy madman he couldn't even see.

* * *

_20 Minutes earlier in in the Arctic Ocean, towards the United Kingdom_

His jacket tugged his body and pulled Malik further into the blue abyss. It felt weird, he spent two hundred and eighty four years fearing moving water, cowering away from its gentle blue touch. Now here he was, his whole body glowing in a blue energy, the voice had put on him so he could swim. It was scary, like any second his body would collapse and he would be dead. His arms were tired, the injury and the walking in Greenland was not doing any better for it to begin healing, that and his bones were sore from work. He was exhausted but the only thing that kept him from just giving up was the promise of land up ahead.

His arm had not healed but when Malik had begun to worry, the voice had assured him that it was him that was stopping the healing process. "There is a breather, residing in Garside as we speak, probably the domestic. We will lure him into our clutches and breathers being sentimental idiots, he will take pity on you and invite you into the house." At this new information, Malik was puzzled. He was sure the Count would have taken Renfield with him. No matter, no-one would stop Malik from completing his task.

The sea become shallower, and murkier as sand rose. The land was a few two hundred meters in front of him, there was a big cliff that hid the rest of the border from view. Malik took no notice of it, sea borders had cliffs in England.

His trousers and Jacket gathered in sand, his shoes were filled with squishy stuff that Malik didn't want to think about, it had been worrying, all the brown floating rocks, at least that was what he told himself it was. He shuddered. Soon his feet touched the bottom of the sea and he propelled himself forward, hands in front of his legs, clinging to the ground to stop him from tripping. Seaweed naturally slowed this process down, the green weed sticking to his shoes and pulling him back, making Malik agitated.

The place did not look like a common seaside terrain but at least had the weather of Britain so Malik assumed he had swum to the right place. He shrugged off the damp seaweed still clinging to his feet and brushed off as much sand as he could off of his frame. The smell, well that could not be helped. The sand below him did however look comfortable, and Malik tried to resist the urge to just flop on the ground and sleep.

The burning registered quickly enough that Malik dodged the fireball whizzing his way towards him. In fact the night sky was ablaze with orange specks, like warning shots. He looked at the fireball that had nearly been the death of him and saw it smash onto a nearby rock. Its flames curved around the rock and ended at the top with a wisp of smoke trailing upwards to the heavens above.

Malik looked away from the fire display above and turned in the direction of the fireball had come from, for he was pretty sure that the bit of England in which he had arrived didn't show any obvious life signs.

A man was in front of him, he didn't look too old, probably four hundred years of age, only a century older then himself. He had a muscular physical appearance. Broad shoulders. Strong, thick neck and an angled square-like face. His nose was small and his lips seemed to be a cresant, hardly showing any emotion. His eyes, however gave away such emotion of absolute, pure excitement. Malik guessed they didn't normally have visitors, he wandered why that was. His eyes were a brilliant twilight blue, that danced and flickered and were so, so dangerous. Malik looked at his clothing. A kind of Greek robe, tartan pattern. Red, black and green criss-crossing past one another. The man wore sandals that showed his dirty nails. He had thick and mad light brown hair that ended at his shoulders, a beard that was more dirt than hair, giving him an older yet slightly madder quality.

A tattoo was on his arm. Starting from elbow height and stopping close to his shoulder. It was mostly black curving triangles with a snake's body spindling in between, than ending with the head of the snake hissing sharply, fangs exposed and "Corsair" written in the mouth.

Malik looked up and saw a whole bunch of vampires with crossbows, arrows tipped with flames or axes, splattered with poison. How had not seen this? Why had the voice not warned him about the people here? There were at least a hundred of them, at the edge of the cliff and in the darkness they were just silhouettes, dark and menacing.

"Welcome to Scotland Outsider." The man spoke, welcoming him as if he was food. Maybe he was, the people did look mad enough for it. However this did not worry him, it was something else.

"Scotland? You are really mad aren't you? This is not Scotland" Malik didn't know what aggravated the man about what he had said, maybe it was the 'mad' part but suddenly, the man had him by the scruff of his jacket and Malik was inches from his face. He could see the blood on his fangs.

"I think I would know where my home is, don't you?" He sneered, and dropped Malik on the floor where two guards handcuffed him, Malik trying his best to resist and maybe escape. "Now, you will come with me."

The army of feral Scottish vampires had already left and Malik was under the watch of two guards, who really irritated him, sounding like Malik was a childish boy who needed lots of direction. Malik decided to toy with his enemy, ask questions but in a way that screamed "I am not defeated". So he did just that and caught up with his captor. "You know, I think it's really impolite to not introduce yourself." Malik started "How about some information?" "We are your captors and you are a trespasser." The man replied stiffly. "I am warrior chief of the Corsairs tribe. My name is Emmanuel Maldover Wolfgang. We are taking you to our leader"

Malik hissed at the guard, who had prod his back with his tribal like staff. The man laughed and the other guard kicked his feet. "Look up, Outsider, that's the last place you will ever see." The guards jeered at him. Malik looked up and saw that up on the green hills, there was a whole village. Illuminated by fire and candles. The houses were made of wood, elderly woman peeking out of their make-shift window and looking at Malik with detest. There were wheelbarrows on the side and a small village market at the centre, the smell was nauseous. The main path was surrounded by men and women and children. The children looked at him with wide eyes and the adults lowered their fangs threatening him, to which Malik sneered at. The crowd cradled garlic cloves in their hands and when Malik passed, threw them with such ferocity that it hurt as well as stank. All of the villagers also wore the same tattoo. Maybe it was a symbol.

Keeping his head down and muttering angrily. Malik arrived at a stone castle, it was alive with lights, Ivy growing up the stone brickwork. The glass was dusty, this entire place was slowly rotting away.

Emmanuel shoved him inside and pushed him towards a golden door, with a serpent snaking up the arch doors. He halted in front of it and without looking at the guards, gestured for them to stay and the guards slowly cowered to their post on either end of the door. He gave the impression that he was used to being obeyed and took for granted his power. He then pushed open the door to a royal looking throne room.

It had brick arches leading up to the throne. The carpet was a smoother stone and leading up to the throne there was a red carpet, gold patterns sliding up the edges. The room was illuminated by two chandeliers with candles placed on them, swinging gently. There was a long oak table with many chairs at their side, the table was covered with paper, which had writing on it. Black ink was neatly assembled at the middle of the table, in front of each table. It felt like there were meetings here regularly.

A staff prodded his back, urging Malik forward to a man that sat on the throne. The man smiled at Malik's displeasure. Malik snarled bitterly at the man. He had blond hair but not as wild as all the others he had seen here, it was combed well but you could see the tips of white sprouting from the roots. He had fair skin with a few wrinkles around the eyes and mouth. His eyes were a torrent of green, like the murky sea of a seaweed ridden beach. His nose and cheekbone were chiselled to perfection and he had pale red lips, cast in a devious smile. He wore a black gloves that had the ends cut off tattily. A band of gold encased his right arm and on the right arm, there was the same tattoo, except this snake head had a crown of bloodied bones. He wore clothes similar to the Count's. Black with a red lining. Black leather trousers and winter boots. On his shoulder, flung was the fur of a polar bear, except it seemed to be vandalised by graffiti so that there was a criss-cross of red, green and black. Around his neck he wore a pendent with a snake sliding up his neck, black, small and scaly. It was held together by a piece of string.

Malik was in front of him and shoved forward so that Malik was on his knees, his hands behind his back. Malik snarled at Emmanuel to which the man on the throne and Emanuel chuckled. "You are a difficult creature aren't you?" The man on the throne said, to which Malik looked up, his eyes black and hissed.

"Oh, how rude of me." The man faked being absolute ashamed at his 'bad manners' and slumped in his chair. "Alexis William Corsair. Leader of the Corsairs."

Malik scoffed, "Bit full of yourself aren't you? Naming a whole tribe after yourself" Malik felt good insulting someone, it didn't make him feel like he was at the mercy of a group of mysterious tribespeople, and it made him feel in control. Not vulnerable.

"He is a feisty one, isn't he?" Alexis teased. He looked to Emmanuel, "Where did you find him?"

"He was washed up on the beach, young Outsider seemed to be in the impression he was in England, sir." Emmanuel spoke politely. This information was received with guffawing from Alexis.

"England! England is miles down south, boy" Alexis slapped his leg in a fit of hysterical laughter.

"Yes, I figured." Malik spoke, the fury bouncing up from his words.

"So, what are we going to do to him?" Alexis asked Emmanuel, suddenly serious.

"What we do to all trespassers sir, surrender him to the agony of dawn." Emmanuel replied formally.

"Yes. That is what we will do." Alexis stretched his 's' into a snake hiss, he took his symbol seriously.

"No, this boy is trouble, I can feel it." A man interrupted, he was standing beside Alexis and was supported by a walking stick. He had white hair that ended at his hips and a beard that went down to his thighs. He wore a brown rag-like gown, and mud brown eyes that had seen all the misery of the world. He had wrinkles around his face and a mark on his neck. His voice was choked and delivered with heavy breathing like as if was a difficulty saying each word. He was ancient.

The elderly man looked at him with scrunched up eyes like he was trying to figure something out. "Head Advisor of the Corsair tribe, Miles Dimitri SabreClaw." He introduced himself.

"As you were saying, Miles." Alexis gestured for Miles to continue.

"He isn't like the others, we should give him a painful death, slow, hurtful and cruel." Miles replied.

"It doesn't matter how their like, we just need trespasser's off the village." Emmanuel spoke agitated, why should we give a boy such special treatment? It was completely irrelevant.

"And why might that be?" Malik asked, genuinely curious, why did they want to remain isolated?

"Be quiet, Outsider!" Alexis scolded and motioned to Emmanuel to whip Malik, the burning pain in his back made Malik keep quiet. Alexis pointed his next words to Emmanuel. "Miles has always been very reliable, it would be foolish not to listen. Show him to the Light Cellar."

Emmanuel nodded curtly and flung him outside of the council room, and then whispered to the guards. The guards smiled and grabbed hold of either end of Malik's shoulders. He was guided down a set of stairs while being explained to what he was being taken to.

"It is said that Master Alexis controls the sun, he is given power over the star at precisely 3:00am and must return the power at 6:00am, Master intends to put you in there and make the sun go and face the fourth wall, he will then make it rise, but agonizingly slowly, not enough to kill you, but not enough to let you live. Once it is 6:00, you will be begging for death. At which point he will kill you." The guards cackled.

"So why doesn't he do this all the time?" Malik asked as he was pushed down the stairs

"Master reserves this torture for 'special' vampires only." The man replied.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Malik replied.

"You can take it how you want, but I'm afraid that concludes our storytelling." The man opened a door and Malik started shuffling on his feet to escape.

Malik was flung inside the room and lost his balance and slipped to the ground. The guards chuckled, watching him as he was trying to get up with no victory.

_Great. Just great_

* * *

Now he had to escape, he didn't want to die again. He had no plans of going out like this.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Yeah... Ingrid isn't coming back until chapter five. I still need to finish this bit and yeah... sorry if your like really bored of the constant travelling but I want Malik to actually to go around places and us to see that... I sound like a cheesy writer and euk.**

**I don't when the next bit will come but I know what's going to happen, if that's any constellation because then you don't need to see me have writers block.**

**BYE! (oh and sorry again for the really long chapter)**


	5. Chapter Four - The Serpent Pendent

**Chapter Four**

**The Serpent Pendent**

The sun was peaking up from its hiding place up in the orange, green hills. Its rays were touching the yellow daises embroidered around the hills and Malik could only watch as they made their slow progression towards him. The black of the night was all but gone and in its place was the pinkie, orange warm blaze of the sun. He had been slumped up the door, pounding his head against it from time to time, hoping maybe that his head could crack a dent and then he could escape. No such luck. Death was in the sun and Malik feared it.

He stood up, suddenly spurred by anger or maybe it was instinct. Run away from the danger, don't face it, survival of the fittest. Someone ought to tell the world that the fittest were often cowards. Maybe he was a coward, maybe not. He didn't care what he was, he just wanted to live.

Malik had begun to lessen his hope of surviving this tribal village, but suddenly with the sun in his eyes, he wanted to know one thing. Who exactly was his killer? Many would say it was Alexis, he was after all the commander, what he said goes. Maybe it was Miles for bringing up the subject, or maybe it was Emmanuel for even spotting him. Some others would say it was Malik for coming. Malik didn't care what others thought, he only cared about what he thought. It was the voice.

"Who are you?" Malik shouted at the room, he was suddenly aware of his anger, after all it was the voice's fault he was in this mess. "I mean I'm going to die soon, might as well tell me."

Silence.

"Well if that's how you-". Malik was interrupted with high pitch screaming, the same scream he heard when he was in Death Valley. Malik was flung across the room and crashed his back into the door. His moan of agony resonated through the room as he lay a hand to his back, soothing it.

"Get up!" The voice boomed. Malik stood, not used to the loud shouts of a voice that only whispered. It was so unlike the voice that quickly Malik wavered in his resolve to find out who his killer was. This was what one single question turned the voice into, what would actually defying the voice do to it?

Malik dusted his trousers nervously as he stood by the door, not moving, for fear of death. Suddenly the door was burning, its warm embrace carving around Malik. The flames were close to touching him when Malik realised the warmth and slipped away. Looking as the door fell down flat in front of him.

The destruction around him was none like any other. The corridor was laden with dust piles, left and right. Smashed wine glasses were embroidering the floor, blood painting the walls and spilling out of the glasses. The boxes were open and their contents were on the floor. Flames were eating on the guard tables and burning them away so quickly it was there one second and gone the next. Other prison doors were ajar and their prisoners missing. Rats scuttled past nervous of the chaos around them as they danced their way around the mess. Malik could only look in awe at the building and smiled when he saw that not one of the guards had escaped.

"I am Cole Thunderbolt Venturi, I am Slaughter." The voice thundered around him. "Now go, boy!"

Malik had to admit, that was a good signal, tearing down the area would definitely get anyone's attention. Also it was his chance to escape.

Malik tore down the halls, he had memorised the journey down to his cellar and went in that direction. He jumped over boxes that were in his way, sped through barbed wire that needed keys, all in his bid for survival, as he had said. Survival of the fittest.

"HELP!" a voice shrieked, to his left was an old vampire who was dawdling towards him with needy eyes and fear in his veins. Malik saw past the man and saw a guard with a crossbow. He was taking aim… Malik produced a fireball and sent it in his direction, not so much for the old fool's sake as for his. The old man soon would die, why prolong his death? That would be cruel. But he still left the man to try and live a little longer.

Malik scampered up the staircase, sometimes losing his balance and landing on the floor next to ash, or holding onto a rail as his body scraped the corners of the stairs, in his haste he kept tripping, finding it harder to get up. It was the slowest journey ever and Malik growled in frustration at his newfound clumsiness. He fell over again and this time, just wanted to stay there. Why was the staircase so long? He slumped there, uncomfortable but exhausted. When suddenly an arrow was lodged into the stair next to him, its tip burning. Another found its dwelling in the stone wall next to him, Malik was stunned as he quickly scrambled to his feet, trying not to slip on the remnants of vampires. Not respect, just trying to live.

"Mathais, the Outsider is here, sound the alarm!" Malik heard a man yell up above. He heard a pair of feet running off in the distance. There was an alarm, not good. He sprinted up the next flight of stairs and was face to face with the guard.

"You saw the Outsider jumping off the window, follow." Hypnotizing the guard, Malik knew he was wasting time but he couldn't afford people running after him. Malik didn't bother to look as the window was opened…. He just ran.

Malik reached a y-path and knew the way out was right. He stumbled towards it but went face first into a force field. "Turn left." Cole (the voice) said in his usual whisper. Malik knew not to question him, he only needed his surroundings to prove it. He turned left.

He skidded in front of the golden arch doors to the throne room (or maybe it was the council room). This was dangerous, from what he knew Alexis was powerful, really powerful. He could control the sun! That in itself could kill all vampires in existence.

"Open the doors, coward!" Cole screeched, maybe his patience was wearing thin and he may send Malik back to Death Valley, that was not okay with Malik, there was someone he needed to see. He would not die without seeing them.

He had received his orders, and hesitantly placed his palms on the doors and pushed them open. The guards had long since fled the place and Malik wondered if Alexis had done the same, which would be good. He wouldn't be up against a man who may be more powerful then Vlad. But then again maybe not. He walked in, confident, not defeated. He may be fearing what would happen but he needed to at least _look_ strong, let no-one see the damage.

"Ah, Emmanuel, come, come." Alexis was too busy studying an ancient book to see that he was not Emmanuel. "There appears to be an ambush." Malik rolled his eyes, the whole castle was burning!

Before Malik could reply, Alexis had spoken again "Go look in the wardrobe will you." The man spoke, obviously preoccupied. "My people's houses are burnt to the ground. I must face them. Give the courage. I need a suit which says "We are not defeated." Malik scoffed as he rummaged in the wardrobe, this man was like the Count. And no-one was like the Count, not in a good way.

He flung a snow leopard fur gown in Alexis's direction and some leather trousers and stood up abruptly.

"Yes, yes, this will do just fine." Alexis observed the gown approvingly. "Now come help me out of this gown, Emmanuel." Malik laughed slightly and snatched a wooden stake, engraved in gold and a nice embroiled handle decorated with emeralds, limestone and all sorts of jewels from its stand on the wall.

"Shame I'm not Emmanuel" Malik purposely blurted. He watched as Alexis's blue eyes widened in shock and turned towards him. He stood there frozen to the spot as Malik threw and caught the stake menacingly. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?"

He whirled the stake at Alexis and suddenly in the flash of a second, he was dust. His ashes melting into the grey of the stone below him. Malik placed the stake into his jacket pocket, useful and classy. He walked towards the dust pile and observed it. One single thing remained, the serpent pendent he had worn around his neck.

"Take it." Cole's voice hissed in his mind. Malik, confused of the importance of the pendent, crouched to pick it up and slung it onto his neck where it resided in view to all. He was carrying quite the souvenirs to remember this place.

"Now run! Emmanuel is here!" Cole snapped and Malik ran, quite a bit of running today. But he was in no way complaining. Maybe a bit.

As he left the castle walls and suddenly felt an energy serge inside of him, it was amazing, the most beautiful feeling in the world. One of utter power. It burned in his veins and singed his body, it was warm and ablaze and all over his body. Malik screamed as the energy crashed around him, releasing themselves from him, just as quickly as the energy came in. It was painful but it was pleasure pain. He could love having this type of raw power. He knew someone else would. She wasn't having it.

The amber energy sent flames sparking around him, the remains of the castle was disintegrated and the Village went up in flames, its flames sending puffs of billowing smoke into the night sky. _Night sky?_ It was meant to be dawn, he was meant to be dust. He could hear Cole's cackling in his mind and grinned as the last of the energy left his fingertips. He looked around him, no one was there, they were probably evacuated and were looking at the remains of their home from afar. He did not feel sorry for the village folk or the guards.

"Thanks lab rat." Cole joked in his mind, which was not helpful. Cole did not know if Malik would have survived the energy transfer. He could have died, twice! For the same reason.

Malik saw a main path and walked towards it. Cole said it would lead to Garside.

The top of the castle was in sight behind Malik and it was still night which Cole had said he had done to make Malik survive out there, long enough for him to reach Garside.

"What about the pendent?" Malik asked, touching the pendent on his neck.

"See the snakes head?" Malik nodded "This, at the wearer's command, will turn into an actual snake head. All you need to do, is get close enough to Ingrid and order it to bite her neck. The venom is slow and you will be able to have the immense pleasure of seeing Ingrid die putty in your hands." Cole explained.

That's why Cole had not said anything to him when he was swimming to Scotland instead of England, this was the murder weapon.

"Malik." A familiar voice croaked. Malik whizzed around to see none other than the Corsair's chief adviser, Miles Demetri Sabreclaw. He didn't look any different if you avoided that his body was slowly turning to ash. It was quite sad to watch, actually.

"You." Miles mumbled.

"You, You, YOU!" Miles sounded mad, he had turned insane. He pointed a finger at Malik desperately, "The darkness is coming."

Malik turned away, he scoffed nervously, the man had cracked. Miles had quietly turned to dust behind him.

Malik spotted a motorbike up ahead, lying abandoned on the side of the road. _This would be much quicker _Malik thought and sat down on the motorbike seat. He was off into the night, whopping and yelling.

_6 hours later, United Kingdom, Garside Residence_

Cole had made the motorbike quicker and he had arrived in Garside in six hours. Malik climbed off and took off the pendent. Malik brought it close to his lips. "Excita serpentem." He mumbled, Latin for 'Awaken Serpent'

The serpent head hissed at him, it was black and scaly, it merged well in the night, it scale glistening in the moonlight. Its crimson tongue flicking rapidly. Fangs displayed, it was magnificent. Not only did Malik have a weapon, it was a beautiful weapon. Malik did do things big after all.

"Dormite jam serpentum" Malik whispered to the snake, which turned back into an obsidian pendent once more. Latin for 'Sleep now Serpent'

Malik looked up at Garside Manor and saw a silhouette in the darkness. It looked like Ingrid, he knew Ingrid from anywhere, maybe that was a good thing, maybe not. There appeared to be another figure. When he focused on that, he smelt breather. Probably Renfield.

He remembered back to what Miles had said. 'The darkness is coming.' What did he mean?

_Garside Manor_

"I heard a motorbike" Ingrid declared while Piers cleared up the table of chess pieces.

"Probably nothing." Piers dismissed, Ingrid could get so anxious sometimes.

"Or something." Ingrid countered irritably.

"Ingrid…" Piers said sadly.

"Look! It's close to here, and it isn't leaving." Ingrid pointed at the bike. Piers came to the window, slipping his arms around Ingrid. Ingrid stiffened slightly.

"Soo….?" Piers asked, confused. He didn't get it. Only one person would understand and Malik was gone.

"So why do I feel like my world is going to spin out of control?" Ingrid said with a sigh.


	6. Chapter Five - Surviving

**Author's Notes:**

**Okay kill me, I've been procrastinating, its addictive. I watched How to train your dragon again and then all sorts of stuff happened and then we went back to school and had lectures about "It's the end of year exams and you really need to do good." IM IN TOP SET SO I THINK I KNOW WHAT IM DOING! and and... urgh, IM SORRY! hopefully this isn't too hard to follow, its just this was really hard for me. I was trying to make Piers nice. Which is hard for me. SEEING AS I ABSOLUTLY HATE HIM! okay byeee!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own YD or any of its characters except Cole. He's my character and so are all the member's of the Corsair tribe.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**Surviving **

_United Kingdom, Garside Manor __8:00pm_

**Malik Vaccineria POV**

Malik turned off the lights to the motorbike, he could feel Ingrid eyeing the vehicle suspiciously, the last thing Malik wanted was Ingrid to be alert of danger. So he walked the vehicle to a bush close by, if he needed an escape route, it was there. He crouched near the brick wall of the entrance to Garside so he wouldn't be seen. He saw Renfield approaching Ingrid, which was strange. Ingrid hated Renfield being that close to her. It didn't even look like a silhouette's of Renfield, but then a lot could change in his absence. He saw Ingrid turn her back and grinned. There was no-one watching him.

His arm was still hurting but now Malik could not feel a thing, it was numb. He must have suffered the pain long enough that his nerves didn't even recognize its presence. That was good. He didn't want to seem weak to the enemy.

Malik stood up and walked towards the main doors. The moon was full and bright but was concealed behind tall trees so as not to alarm the residents of Garside. The animals were long gone and he could only see bats flying around the chimneys of Garside. He knew there wasn't a vampire concealed in their disguise so he took his time, well, as much as his ever growing thirst for Dracula blood would allow him to.

Malik walked up the stairs to the door and was about to knock, his arm raised and his hands fisted and pointing to the door, when the whispering voice of Cole filled his head. Malik growled in frustration. This strange person had put him through hell and now he was stopping him from completing his purpose. If Malik was truly alive then he would have hunted Cole down ages ago.

"What?" Malik growled impatiently, his hand still ready to knock on the door.

"Change of plan." Cole replied shortly. Malik was confused, what change of plans? There was nothing to change, everything was as it should be. There was no need. None at all.

"What? Why?" Malik asked, his hand lowering slowly from its place near the door.

This time it was Cole who seemed impatient, this young boy was questioning him! He was the kind of person who liked getting what he wanted, no questions asked.

"It's the _wrong _breather!" Cole angrily answered Malik's question. It was the wrong breather. It didn't smell like Renfield, Cole knew what Renfield smelled like. Besides the obvious smells of chemicals and strange meat, Renfield smelled like loyalty, bitterness, stupidity and science. This breather smelled of love, intelligence, pride and excitement. That definitely was not Renfield.

Malik stood there, absolutely puzzled. Last time he checked there was currently only one breather residing in Garside. Renfield. Sally and George had left as for any other breather he knew and saw. So what was Cole saying "the wrong breather." Besides Ingrid would never allow any other breather to stay. She would have bitten them by then. Unless...

"Duck, fool!" Cole's voice echoed in his mind. Loud and clear. He immediately ducked and saw the door swirl over his head and land behind him with a bang. Fire was melting the corners and he somehow knew that Cole was responsible. As Malik stands up to walk in, windows shatter above him, left and right. Raining glass pieces, Malik scrambled behind a nearby tree and watched as the glass breaks free and there was glass sliding or hurling past his shoulders.

Malik chuckled at the destruction and mess that lies in front of him. He stood there, revelling in the glory of it all. Why shouldn't he? After all, the way thing seem to playing out. Ingrid would be dead by midnight. He should take it all in his stride.

There is a gruff yell, masculine and in pain. _That is not Renfield's scream. So whose was it? _

* * *

_United Kingdom 8:05pm_

**Ingrid Dracula POV**

She was still suspicious of the motorbike outside. It had just arrived there, fully aware that this place was neither a school nor was it friendly. They could have been asking for directions but why come here, to a scary place that almost seemed to be alive. She had turned her back to the vehicle, it was – as Piers had said – probably nothing. She knew she was lying.

"Ingrid, don't" Piers was saying as he scooped up a handful of chess pieces.

"Don't what?" Ingrid argued back "There are vampires out there, who would do anything to reach me. I would be the perfect trap for the Chosen One."

Piers grinned "So you think there is a traitor outside?" He was joking, but still Ingrid fixed him with an icy cold glare.

"Take's one, to know one." Ingrid replied back, her hands on her hips.

Piers shook his head sadly as he bent down and picked up the last chess piece and dropped it into the bag containing the other chess pieces.

* * *

"_So why do I feel like my world is going to spin out of control?" _

* * *

The glass smashed around them, Ingrid gave a small scream and frantically smashed onto the ground and covered her head. Glass tangled in her hair and cut themselves a home in her skin and clothing. She was surrounded by the sharp pieces, it caved in around her and stabbed her lightly everywhere. The wind howled as it was let in to the house, the candles whistled to their deaths and the fireplace arched back fighting to keep itself alive. The chess pieces flung themselves away from the table and banged onto the ground, its contents spilling and mingling with the floor. The chandelier parted from the ceiling and its crystals splattered onto the floor.

"Oww!" A masculine yell was heard from opposite Ingrid, near the fireplace.

Piers.

"Piers?" Ingrid scrambled towards the sound, a flash of the white top he was wearing confirmed where he was. Ingrid crawled, only then registering the pain of the glass on her skin. She moved as fast as she could and saw Piers. He was sprawled onto the ground. His whole body was covered in glass and his shoe was alight from the flames of the fireplace. He was pale as a sheet and blood was oozing out of his arm. The chandelier rested on his stomach. The crystals embedded in his skin.

She reached out a hand to his face, and swiped back the brown hair. He was breathing rapidly. "Piers?" She asked worriedly. His leg was bruised so he couldn't possibly get up. Her hand touched his cheek lightly and felt the beads of sweat slipping down his face. He was hurt. Badly.

"Ingrid." Piers moaned in response, barely a whisper. She frantically placed a hand to his chest, still breathing. In need of medical help. That's all, he would live.

She bended so that her ear was touching his lips. She felt the intake of a ragged breath.

"Get to the security room, put on the UV beams and burglar alarms, it's probably not a breather but still." Piers muttered into her ear.

"What! No, I'm not leaving you here." Ingrid protested.

A fireball hurled itself at Ingrid, just missing the top of her head. She looked at Piers.

"Go Ingrid." Piers insisted. His breath was swallowing, Ingrid gave a shaky 'no'

"Run."

She stood up and shook off the glass from her clothes before striding to the door. She paused slightly to look at Piers. Ingrid took off to the security room, the basement.

This was too familiar. Too impossible. Too _him._

* * *

_United Kingdom, Garside Manor 8:07pm_

**Malik Vaccineria POV**

Malik walks away from the cover of the tree, it just occurred to him how sweet revenge was. It was like a pain killer, lessening the misery of being defeated. The whole of his body was raging, he wanted death. All of the Dracula's deaths, he wasn't going to be stopped, he wasn't going to be reasoned with. All of them, every single person with so much as an ounce of Dracula blood would die.

Malik strode towards the frame of the door, as the door had been engulfed in flames behind him. He could see the staircase, the entrance and all of the doors leading everywhere. It felt good to be back.

He was going to walk in when Cole clouded his head once again. Malik tried to refrain from yelling at his head. "Not yet." Cole instructed and instantly Malik stood still where he was.

Nothing moved, nothing was heard. There was just the whispering of the candles and the gentle sway of the bulb. Malik quickly began to get irritated, when he saw it. Or rather, her. He saw Ingrid running down the stairs, her black hair following closely and her whole body fiercely determined. She didn't even seem to be looking around her, just at the door in front of her. What was so important about the basement? She watched as the last of her went from his line of sight and heard the door bang shut behind her.

He closed his eyes, the vision of her ashes on the floor seeped into his mind and he grinned psychotically, soon the vision would be real. Soon.

* * *

**Piers POV**

Pier's whole body was fighting the pain in his body, it hurt so much. The chandelier had penetrated into his skin, not deep enough to cause any fatal damage but enough that he would still feel the soaring pain in his chest and legs. He was breathing rapidly, his whole body sweating from the exhaustion from doing so. This whole near death experience was in a weird way, exciting. When he was a little boy growing up, there was no adventure or adrenaline in his world. It was the usual, wake, live, sleep. An endless cycle of boredom. So a young 19 year old Piers had packed his bags, said goodbye to his family and left to find adventure. Adventure found him and he had been sucked into the vampire world ever since. It was scary, unusual and life threatening but he wouldn't dream of changing it. Not now that he had Ingrid.

He was still trying to help her so he had quite painfully dragged himself on the floor to the door. It probably wasn't healthy for him but nothing in his life was healthy. He had just managed to get to the door when he saw something he didn't expect. There was a person going down to the basement.

The person looked familiar, maybe he had met him at some point. He was wearing a black leather jacket and some stylish black trousers paired with some boots. He could only see the back of the person but already Piers felt like he was here for Ingrid.

"Hey!" Piers rasped, obviously the person didn't hear him because the door to the basement shut and the man was nowhere to be seen. Pier's vision clouded, the blackness seeped through and he couldn't focus. Piers only briefly placed a hand to his hips and felt liquid dripping from his hand. It was blood.

He blacked out.

* * *

**Malik Vaccineria POV**

He had heard the faint whimper of someone behind him but he was an impatient person and had immediately followed Ingrid down to the basement. There were beady eyed cameras everywhere. He had an idea as to what the basement held. The cobwebs had been left to grow, which was also strange because Renfield took enormous pleasure in shoving the cobwebs into a bottle and using them for his strange potions. Was Renfield even here anymore?

The corridor to the basement was a noisy place and Malik carefully treaded on the floorboards so as not to alert a certain Ingrid. He was reaching the basement when he heard tapping and clicking. He was now definitely getting his suspicions now.

He reached the door to the basement. Sure enough, he could see Ingrid sitting on the seat and eyeing the various screens in front of her. He quickly hid behind the door frame as he saw a camera look in his previous position. It had missed him, he was safe. His head peeked out to look at Ingrid. She hadn't changed much, she was probably happier, seeing as she had a throne of her own. But if you looked carefully, you could see she hadn't been to bed in weeks. Malik wondered why that was, after all, she had everything she ever wanted. Right now she was looking at the screen on the left. Looking at it occasionally, Malik saw a hint of white. It could be Renfield but he doubted that. She wouldn't even give him a second thought. But maybe Renfield had proved his worth to Ingrid, he didn't know.

Malik was waiting there for five minutes and was suddenly getting deeply irritated and twitchy. He had a feeling in his hands that wanted to touch Ingrid's ashes. He was in a deep bloodlust when the spark of electricity woke him from his murderous visions.

"No!" He heard Ingrid yell in frustration and saw as she kicked the stand in anger. All the screens were black. She wouldn't be able to see him. Perfect.

He walked carefully up to her, she was bent over, trying to get the monitor to work when he felt for the stake he had been keeping in his jacket pocket from the Corsair's tribe. Instead of the pendent, he really should use this.

"No." Cole was suddenly in his thoughts. Malik stopped and quietly put the stake back. "Knock her out Malik." The voice instructed quietly.

Malik lifted a hand, already fisted and used the other to grab Ingrid's shoulder. He whirled her around to face him. She had time to gasp to the mysterious touch when he had her fist to her face and Ingrid slumped to the floor. Malik stopped her from falling and peered into the screen.

_A breather! _Malik chuckled at Ingrid, _well then, time we got introduced._

He headed back to where the breather would be. Ingrid was in his arms, like a sleeping baby. She was a lot heavier and Malik tried to not drop her. The breather would want her in perfect condition. He saw the breather at the foot of the door and nudged him awake with his feet, his hands were otherwise engaged.

"Ingrid…" The breather murmured as he slowly woke up.

When the breather saw Malik he scrambled backwards to which Malik could only laugh. The poor fool had wide eyes and an accent that reminded him of the Corsair's Scottish accent. Then the man's eyes laid on Ingrid's limp form and he looked back up to Malik with a new found anger that Malik couldn't resist but smirk to.

"Put. Her. Down." Piers said roughly.

Malik laughed and dropped Ingrid onto the floor. He winced at the thud but instead saw Piers crawl over to her and help a woken up Ingrid to stand. She was muttering from the pain, rubbing the back of her head when she looked up and saw Malik.

She was suddenly stumbling backwards shaking her head vigorously with a confused Piers following her making sure she didn't trip.

Malik smirked at the display when Ingrid placed a hand onto the couch to support her body. Her fangs were down but Malik didn't see her as a threat.

"Malik."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**I'll try not to leave it as long but I cant make any promises because for me, this is hard work seeing as I'm such a lazy person. Sorry about my traits in life. Thank you for all the reviews and views. I cant believe people from all over the world have read this. It's really well, Amazing! anyway now I need some kind of thing to make me calm, because I JUST MADE A CHAPTER INCLUDING PIERS/INGRID! this hurts!**


	7. Chapter Six - Saved

**Author's Notes**

**I'm really really sorry, I haven't updated in a while and just please forgive me! I've been stressing about Exams and I just felt pressurised to do that, even though I haven't revised for them. Their just end of year exams and I'll revise when the time comes. Its just really hard to do this fic when I kept putting in romance and then deleting it because I don't want the romance just yet, because let's be realistic...Ingrid and Malik wouldn't start loving each other straight away, especially with Piers in the way! So sorry about the non-romance fic just now, but this will end as Malik/Ingrid DON'T WORRY! **

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Saved**

One of her hands clutching her waist as the bruise began healing - it still was a painful process - she looked up, her eyes misty grey as she used her other hand to abruptly punch Piers squarely in the chest. The strength was new to Piers and he let out a groan of pain as he was flung onto a nearby velvet red chair embodied in an intricate wooden carvings. Ingrid blinked back tears as she kept her eyes away from Piers and to Malik.

Malik could not help but laugh as he felt the breathers shock, she had after all done quite a similar trick to him that left his chin hurting for quite some time (who knew that two fingers could hurt that much?) but still he kept his gaze fixed on Ingrid, looking away would look cowardly and Malik may be a lot of things, however 'cowardly' never came on the list.

"Ingrid..." Piers spoke as he made to get up. He was, after all confused.

Ingrid turned to look at him and hissed sharply at him. This was her fight. Definitely hers. Piers backed down onto the seat once more from the threat of being bitten. He may not understand what was going on but he wasn't about to question it with those fangs in front of him.

Ingrid turned back to face Malik - who was looking at the ordeal in curiosity - blinking back tears as she did. Malik could see something in her eyes that surprised him. It was water. _Tears_. Did this breather mean so much that she'd go as far as to protect him, to care for him, to weep for him?

Suddenly she was mere inches from Malik, her eyes as cold as the snow and evil as hell. Her fangs were on display and she hissed at him. Her entire body alive at the thrill of a challenge. She was scared too though...

Malik hissed back, just to let her know that he was not afraid. The intensity of the moment scared Piers as he looked on from the sidelines.

"Who are you?" Ingrid snarled as they began circling each other like animals fighting over a territory.

Malik chuckled, suspicious as ever. "Who do you think?"

She leaned in to Malik's face, invading his privacy further. "You're no one I know of." She growled, searching his face. It was a mask, something, but it definitely was not Malik Vaccineria.

"Well think again." Malik suggested, they seemed to not be saying each other's names, Piers noted, what was with that?

"I _am _thinking." She replied back coldly. "That's why it's not possible."

Malik scoffed. "Well clearly, it is."

They were still circling each other, this was strangely like one acts around a predator.

"I'll say it again _traitor-_

_"_Takes one to know one." Malik interrupted.

Now their noses were almost touching, they were hissing and snarling, their eyes ablaze.

Piers, suddenly worried that a duel was about to commence flung himself off the sofa and towards the snarling pair. Ingrid hissed at Piers, her eyes black and deadly, it was so unlike the Ingrid that he knew that he skidded to a halt in front of them. Ingrid hands reached Malik's collar and she held onto the leather tightly. Malik looked at her hands in anger and was about to remove it when he began moving. The wind parted as Ingrid dragged Malik downstairs to the grand hall with super-fast speed.

Malik looked around and recognized the Grand hall and more importantly the entrance door to which he had his back to. Ingrid wanted Malik to leave, not a chance. He bore his fangs once again and impatiently removed her hand from his collar. Ingrid didn't say anything however the doors behind Malik opened.

"I don't know who you are but you are leaving!" she yelled.

Malik grew angry quickly and started shifting his hand towards the snake. The desire to actually kill her wasn't drawing him to the pendent however a faint whisper of a scream in his head did. It was slowly growing louder and louder and it felt like his eardrums would explode if he didn't kill Ingrid. The snake seemed to be leaning in to his touch and Malik thought maybe this was it, the day he killed Ingrid Dracula.

"Ing-"Ingrid's eyes shot up towards Piers as he stood there on the stairs. Panic all over his face and his eyes closing for no reason, she was about to yell at him for interrupting when suddenly it struck her.

There was a ball of fire heading towards them.

* * *

Malik should have dodged it, it would be the right thing to do, just watch as the flames would consume Ingrid and leave her a pile of dust. It was what his brain was telling him to do but Malik had a habit of running only on instinct. Do the damage and then think later of the consequences. So when he saw Ingrid's throat start to form a scream, he did what his whole being didn't want to.

He saved her.

* * *

His arms encased Ingrid around the shoulders and he could see her confused grey eyes as they locked onto his and he dragged them both to the floor. The thud of their bodies crashing onto the floor resounded through the whole room. Malik could feel the dust entering his hair and felt his eyes move sideways to where Ingrid laid. He caught her looking at him almost asking the question _"why?"_ Malik looked away, to be honest he didn't know himself.

"INGRID!" Piers boomed as he sprinted down the stairs, by Ingrid's side in seconds. He helped her up and quickly muttered about how she was and how he should have warned him. Malik could only laugh at the breather for wasting his time on an unfeeling woman. But then again she did have feelings, didn't she?

Ingrid quickly got irritated at Pier's fussing and pushed aside his arm that was lingering around her waist. Honestly, breathers could be so trivial! She brushed the dust off her body and turned to Malik, a glare fixed on her eyes.

"You probably did this but to be honest, I don't care." Her voice was filled with venom. "My home has been attacked too much for me to remember, a few more bruises won't hurt, but you. You spread round these halls like wildfire and I want you gone."

"Or thank you, as they used to say." Malik muttered loudly.

"The doors that way." She pointed in the direction of the grand doors that lead the way out. "Hell is here, choose your path."

Ingrid walked away and to the door that went downstairs into the series of basements. Piers looked at Malik icily as the fire continued to eat on the furniture, obviously he wasn't used to the attacks. Malik just looked on. Then quickly dodged an incoming garlic gas bomb, vile putrid thing. He had chosen his path.

* * *

"I, I don't get it. Ingrid, who is he?" Piers fought for an answer as he followed Ingrid down to the dungeons. Ingrid was not telling him anything, she just looked on ahead like as if she hadn't heard him. He was beginning to feel left out. Ingrid had always told him what was happening, granted she had her own gains from it but because he was him, he just liked that Ingrid told him even a fraction of her life but this person. She seemed to not want to tell him about him.

"Ingrid," Piers reasoned sadly, he grasped her shoulders and turned her around, bringing her to a halt in front of him.

Ingrid sighed angrily and turned on her heel away from Piers and resumed her walk to the dungeons. "No one important, just an idiot in a leather jacket." She threw over her shoulder. Well, at least it was something.

"I heard that." Malik was beside Ingrid and Piers could only shudder as he listened to their conversation. "Idiot?, I'm much more smarter than you."

Ingrid looked at Piers only slightly and then leaned in to Malik's ears. "Says the dead fool." Ingrid whispered.

Malik laughed slightly "So you do believe its me." He whispered back, his ego written all over his face.

"Never."

Piers who was feeling very left out of the conversation, not to mention that the ever growing threat of death was looming over the three's head, he was quite eager to start moving. Did the Dracula's always stop to have a chat in the middle of an invasion. Knowing Ingrid - it was a amazing feeling, _knowing_ Ingrid - they probably did. Piers coughed slightly and that got the pairs attention and he gestured ahead of them "I don't want to die so soon, do you?" He barged past the pair.

Malik gave a scoff and followed suit of Piers and Ingrid "Speak for yourself."

He was a few lazy steps behind the lovebirds and he was having a conversation with Cole. In his mind that was.

"Why did you protect her?" Cole asked angrily, the answer never came, there was just a silence because Malik didn't know what happened, it just happened before he could think about it.

"Was this you?" Malik asked Cole, just a question so Cole wouldn't think too much about Malik's silent answer. It looked like the pair had things to hide to each other, as Cole too remained silent.

"I guess this makes us even." Malik pointed out gruffly.

"Guess so." Cole replied.

* * *

Of course Ingrid noted that Malik was not near them but to be honest she didn't care, she was done trusting him and making alliances with him. It only ever ended badly. She could see that Piers was feeling a little left in the dark but she wasn't ready to tell him the full story of Malik. He had enough weird stuff in his life, this would only add to the pile. Anyway, the cheesy grin of Piers when she tells him something is intolerable. She figured that it might be best to insure that Malik might not use Piers as a inside informative so she turned around abruptly to face Piers. She looked over his shoulder to where Malik was, good, he didn't seem that close enough to hear what she was going to say.

"Piers, don't trust him." Ingrid said shortly and continued her voyage down to the dungeons.

Piers stopped angrily but Ingrid kept going, Piers threw his hands up in the air in annoyance and yelled "Why not?!"

Malik barged his way past Piers, laying a comforting hand to his shoulder, "Because she said so" was all that Malik said and walked towards Ingrid.

Piers wanted to shout but that would only annoy Ingrid and as much as he hated to admit it, he would never want to annoy her. He liked to think that Ingrid loved him because he was nice to her and showed her that vampires could love, so he did just that. Anything for Ingrid.

Malik caught up with Ingrid as she lit a torch as the ever growing darkness made it hard to see, she handed him a stick and lit it carefully so as not to let her body be dusted, "Just so that its fair." It took a second but Malik realized it was that if Malik decided to turn on her she also had the same weapon to take out him.

"You never did tell me where we were going?" Malik inquired as they peered into the dark. The torch lighting up the first few meters in the narrow stone corridor. Malik didn't know what was so special over here, they were just dungeons and rubbish rotting ones at that. If Ingrid had any intention of throwing Malik in there, it would never work. He'd escape just as easily as he was going in.

"I didn't did I?" She replied sarcastically, she was never going to tell him, and he knew it. Malik scoffed at her words.

At this time Piers had joined the group again and he didn't want to be put out of the conversation, especially when his health was at risk. So he did what he probably shouldn't and Ingrid would hate him for it but he just wanted to be seen by her because right now all she was seeing was a boy who she said was not trust-worthy. And he wanted to be seen, he wanted to be known by her because that was the way it was, Ingrid would see him and fall on him for comfort. It was as simple as. "There is a secret series of tunnels that lay right underneath this house, there are also holes that we can blast fire out of, to the intruder." He said trying to avoid Ingrid and those steely eyes.

"So shouldn't you be up there?" Ingrid asked, her voice pointing at Malik.

"Nope" Malik answered "Fireballs, intruders and light, I think I'll pass"

"How about falling?" She said with a smile.

"What?" Malik asked, clearly confused as his feet felt the ground leave them and he was suspended in air, then gravity took hold and he plunged into a black abyss. But not before he had grabbed Ingrid's wrist and pulled her down with him. that way she and the breather could forget about any plans to murder him. However this put him in a tricky position as Ingrid's yelp was followed by her high heels finding purchase on his face and kicking his jaw. He clutched onto her wrist, digging his fingers into her wrist.

Just so they were even.

* * *

The hole widened and they collapsed onto a rocky surface. There were skulls welcoming them with bored looks and rats that scuttled past the bodies. The passage lead in for as far as the eye could see, sometimes there were stairs, otherwise you would have to battle the slippery slopes. There was water sliding past them slowly and candles giving very little light.

"Get up." Ingrid's voice echoed through the passage, but as Malik regained his eye sight, he could just about see Ingrid and her hand in front of him. He took it and used it to get up, looking around as he did so.

"Why?" He asked tiredly. The fall must have made him light headed, either this or his travelling was getting to him.

"Look around." Ingrid said, when Malik only squinted at the darkness she pointed at a close wall. "There is something that's bleeding off the walls." She dragged him close to the wall and pressed his hand to the wall, when she pulled it back and showed it to him it was covered in the gooey red texture of blood.

"What?" Malik looked at his hand, astounded.

He looked at Ingrid but instead focused his attention at the blood that was dripping off the walls, it came down onto the floor at either slugs pace or of an unnatural speed. When the blood piled onto the ground it shifted itself upwards, making muscular legs, clothes of war wrapped around a body, broad shoulders and square face. There was an army of bloodied romans surrounding them. They were made of blood and where their eyes should have been, there was nothing. Everything was red. There were hundreds of them, gathered around them.

An army of fallen blood centurions.

* * *

**How was that for ya! Reviews are always welcome, so is constructive critism but don't be rude. I don't think I could take it, so just so you know! Anyway, yeah bye! (I think I spelt "critism" wrong!) **


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